


Topsy-Turvy

by Lucifuge5



Category: due South
Genre: Community: au_bingo, Fluff, M/M, elf!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-31
Updated: 2010-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/pseuds/Lucifuge5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"Exhibit B, Fraser," he said with an index finger at each side of his head, "pointy ears. Some parts of the tales are true. Unfortunately."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Topsy-Turvy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for AU_bingo prompt "Fantasy & Supernatural: Fairy Tales". None of the boys are mine. I'm just giving them a place to romp. No profit's been made. This here is undiluted Elf!AU of the non-crack variety (make of that what you will). Set sometime after _Mountie on the Bounty_ but before _Call of the Wild._ Betaed by Akamine_Chan and Mizface. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Fraser stifled a yawn as he surveyed the late afternoon sky. Gauging by the sun's position, he figured he had about a half hour to go before the end of guard duty. He let his gaze grow unfocused, the better to endure the wait, while his thoughts drifted—like they seemed to more and more lately—toward Ray Kowalski.

'Playing statue' as Ray liked to call guard duty had its advantages. It would have taken a mind reader to realize that Fraser missed Ray a little more intensely than what was socially acceptable in the world of law-enforcement.

In this case, the steady longing for Ray's company had been shadowing him for the past eight days. Fraser had initially toyed with the foolish notion of offering to go along with Ray on his upcoming vacation to the Southwest. However, a most inopportune RCMP memo, detailing a general audit for all the offices—including international ones—within the next couple of weeks, had turned up a week prior to Ray's departure. Its arrival meant he, along with everyone else in the Consulate, would be sorting through all of the archives and organizing any stray paperwork for the duration of Ray's holiday. Inspector Thatcher had made it clear that Fraser's presence was required and so, with a heavy heart, he ended up letting go of the absurd fancy.

Fraser wasn't sure, but there had been a quirk in his partner's behaviour that suggested an overall reluctance to leave Chicago, however momentarily. Ray's dispirited monologue echoed in his head: _"I tell you, Fraser, mum's been playing the guilt card with a heavy hand. Why don't I visit more often, airfare to Arizona is cheap, they keep getting older. She can be tenta— tenact—damn stubborn!"_

Ironically, a second RCMP memo--distributed a day after Ray left—announced the move of the audit to the following month.

With Ray gone, there wasn't much to break the day-to-day tedium. His duties had reverted to the usual mélange of Consular work: monotonous processing and indexing of office forms interrupted by long stretches of standing outside the Consulate.

He considered going for a quick run in the park with Dief after work, like he had done yesterday, to soothe both his body and his spirit. A Spartan dinner, maybe a turkey sandwich and a cup of tea, and a few chapters of either Dickens or Pushkin until it was time to turn in for the night ought to keep him from moping around like a love-sick teen.

Out of the blue, a persistent thought came into focus. _Had Ray left enough water and turtle food for Sparkplug?_

Keeping in mind that the turtle had been a part of his partner's life for over ten years, surely Ray would be well aware of the appropriate care of a member of the order Testudines. Even so, a perverse need to be part of Ray's world—however small—until his return from Arizona gained the inner argument. He made up his mind to check in on the reptile's well-being as soon as his shift was over.

*****

It was dark by the time Fraser entered Ray's apartment using the key Ray had given him eight months ago. He flipped the light switch right next to the hallway closet. Shifting his eyes over to Sparkplug's terrarium, he noticed that the tank's light had grown dim. It might burn out before Ray was due back from his sojourn.

Fraser went into the kitchen, followed by a snippy Dief who kept asking where the doughnuts were. He filled up a bowl with water and another one with the kibble Ray had graciously begun buying a month into their partnership. As he poured, Fraser remembered his surprise and pleasure when Ray first showed him the dog food. ( _"A hungry wolf could gobble up Sparkplug, Frase. That turtle survived The Stella. Being eaten by Dief won't be the way he will go to the big pond in the sky," Ray said as he showed him the kibble bag. "This brand's okay, right?"_ )

Dief growled at the lack of junk food, lapped some water and headed to his most recent favourite spot right under Ray's bed.

As Fraser returned from the kitchen, a replacement light bulb for Sparkplug's tank in hand, a sudden feeling of vertigo knocked his body hard enough to make him fall to one knee. The light bulb slipped from his numb fingers and he heard it crashing on the floor. His left arm trembled as he tried to steady himself and keep himself upright. An even stronger ripple of queasiness soon followed and Fraser collapsed onto the hardwood floor. Diefenbaker ran to his side and lay down next to him, whining with worry. He kept asking Fraser what was going on, but all Fraser could do was swallow hard against the bile roiling in his stomach and focus on remaining calm.

Fraser had the near-absolute certainty that he hadn't consumed anything remotely poisonous in the last 48 hours. He was going through his mental catalogue of airborne pathogens when a low-pitched screech echoed through the apartment. Fighting the urge to vomit, he kept his eyes focused on the spot from where the noise was coming from despite not being sure what he was looking for. Suddenly, a very familiar pair of black motorcycle boots appeared in his field of vision from the very literal thin air. Incapacitated as he was, Fraser knew he would have noticed someone walking up to him. In an instant, Ray's panic-stricken face replaced the boots.

"Fraser? **Fraser!** "

Diefenbaker snarled and then barked at Ray in reproach. Fraser didn't understand Diefenbaker's anger towards Ray, especially due to the current predicament. There was no connection he could discern between Ray's sudden emergence and his present malaise. He had close to no functional motor skills at that point so Ray ended up half-dragging, half-carrying him to the couch.

Eyes closed, Fraser kept replaying the moment when Ray—for lack of a better word— _materialized_ in front of him. His awareness of how ridiculous that sounded couldn't erase the fact there simply was no logical explanation for it. At least none that wouldn't include a through examination of his family's history with insanity. He let his body relax into the cushions, feeling barely conscious of Ray walking away.

*****

Ray's voice, somewhat tinny to his ears at the moment, rose above the refrigerator's hum. "Whiskey! I should give you something strong. Hold on, okay? Just hold on!"

He couldn't see his partner as he lay half-prone on the couch, but the sounds of cabinet doors slamming in the kitchen indicated that Ray was perhaps searching his pantry for liquor. Fraser started to decline the offer of spirits, a sour taste on his tongue, but the urge to dry-heave returned when he tried to talk. He'd clutched his abdomen and started to straighten up, thinking about heading to Ray's bathroom, when he felt a slightly shaking hand on the side of his neck easing him back onto the couch. The touch was brief, but it was enough to ground him. He opened his eyes, still feeling quite sick, and tried to concentrate on his breathing.

The sofa dipped as Ray sat down. "No, no, no, Frase. You gotta stay put. Here, drink this. It's virgin. Um, non-alcoholic, I mean."

A rush of heat rose to his face when Ray's hands placed a cool glass of lemonade between his own and stayed there, offering support with an undercurrent of tenderness.

"Drink up, Frase. I figure you're about this close to hurling."

Fraser stared at their joined hands holding the glass. Being in such proximity to Ray after a little over a week of separation brought many thoughts to the forefront. God, how he had missed this . . . the casual touches, the ease with which each moved around the other's space, this _connection_. His heart beat furiously as he savoured the warmth radiating from Ray's tawny skin. Those long fingers covering his own, those oddly-jointed, expressive, callused hands he had dreamed many a night of nibbling and kissing until he could memorize every single whorl. He licked his lips and proceeded to study Ray's face, taking in the stubble he had found attractive from the time they first met, those green blue eyes that had a teasing quality to them and **that** mouth . . . . despite the fading physical discomfort, a peculiar happiness spread inside him as he enjoyed this quiet moment with Ray.

Added to his lustful thoughts, was a genuine affection for the one person who had managed to see past the façade so many others had been willingly deceived by. Ray and he had been simpatico since that fateful meeting in the 2-7 where a hug, a wink and a measure of blond-haired stubbornness had begun to thaw the heart he thought had frozen up since his wretched reunion with Victoria a few years back.

"You okay, Frase? Maybe I should go get a cold cloth or something?" Ray asked as he dropped his hands and tipped forward to get enough leverage to stand up.

"No, thank you," Fraser said after gulping half of the tangy liquid. "I believe I might have eaten something spoiled during lunch."

He didn't miss the way Ray froze mid-movement. A measure of awkwardness, perhaps guilt, began to quickly replace the earlier openness. Fraser was puzzled but decided to sidestep around it for the time being. "Er, when did you get back, Ray? I thought you weren't due to return for another week."

Ray winced before looking at him with a guarded expression on his face. "I didn't think you would be here and I forgot all about the time difference. Now I'm wondering why was I in such a hurry to come back."

Fraser nodded even though what Ray was telling him sounded strange, as if he was talking in some kind of code.

"On any case, Frase, we—I . . . well, there's something we've got to talk about."

 _No, that's not guilt_ , Fraser realized as his disorientation grew into concern. _That's regret? Why?_  


*****

Sitting steel rod-straight at the other end of the sofa, Fraser kept trying to keep himself together, trying to not to **stare** , which he knew was making Ray even more uncomfortable, but he couldn't help it. Only a few minutes had passed since Ray had stated that they had to talk. Fraser hadn't thought that Ray needed any prompting then—Ray had seemed eager to approach the mystery topic—and yet the conversation had stalled even before it began.

Fraser waited, but Ray seemed unable, perhaps unwilling, to continue. He took another long drink of the lemonade as a way to let Ray speak in his own time. Seeing no end to their stalemate, he made up his mind to intervene. He set the empty glass on the coffee table and pushed back at the silence.

"You said, ahem. Ah . . . ." Fraser leaned forward, mouth agape like he really had something to say, the tip of his tongue barely touching the one crooked tooth that quirked up his smile. He hesitated for a few seconds before snapping his mouth shut as if he was at the receiving end of one of Inspector Thatcher's harshest scoldings, sat back into the couch and looked back at Ray. Apparently, neither of them was sure this was a conversation he wanted to have.

Ray, sitting to his left, twisted his lips into an almost-grimace, as he turned his bracelet around. "Yeah?" Ray's voice cracked as if he was straining to remain calm. He tipped his head at an angle before looking back at Fraser. If this had been an actual interrogation, Fraser thought the suspect would have mistaken Ray for a rookie.

Dief had curled up on the armchair as soon as Fraser had landed on the sofa. He was now quietly huffing in his sleep. Fraser envied him for a brief moment, for his quiet acceptance of whatever had just transpired. Unlike him, Fraser didn't know what exactly had happened. He rubbed his eyebrow. "Err . . . ."

That seemed to be one conversation starter too many for Ray. "Listen, Fraser!" He said with a cutting hand gesture that hinted at some kind of desperation. "I'm _not_ from around here. I mean, you. You weren't supposed to . . . I have no idea how . . . ." Ray put the heels of his palms against his eyes. "Argh!"

Fraser tried to exude a sense of tranquility he wasn't really feeling, giving Ray enough time to compose his thoughts. It was important, _for many reasons_ , not to have this partnership disintegrate the way it nearly did prior to the events of the Henry Allen. "Yes, Ray?" He worked at keeping his voice on an even tone. Ray's personality had a mercurial quality to it—including an innate skittishness that came out whenever Ray was cornered.

Ray nearly bumped his legs against the coffee table as he stood up. He began to pace to and fro, mumbling all the while about calling _the other one_ , whoever _that_ was.

 _Anxiety personified_ , Fraser thought with a faint ache. A cold weight settled in his stomach. He really didn't want to talk, his grandparents had actively discouraged conversations about one's feelings, but he had a sense, an honest hunch, that they both had to face whatever it was that was troubling Ray.

Halfway through his eleventh time around the coffee table, Rat stopped and exhaled. "You know what, fuck this!" The words were loud and the dread inside Fraser only grew as he saw an index finger and a pinkie finger pointing back at him. "I know this is a good time to be flipping out and I am really sorry, but you better hold onto your red Serge 'cause this is about to get freakier." Ray's fingers pulled on his silver bracelet as he whispered something that to Fraser's ears amounted to not-quite-gibberish. Only one word had been decipherable. "Vecchio!"

"Ray," Fraser uttered raggedly, "why are you . . . ?" A cough strangled the rest of his words. The air in Ray's apartment began to press on his body from all sides. His stomach roiled; there was bile on the back of his throat. His eyes, already tightly shut, started to tear and burn. A noise, similar to that of a small firecracker exploding, made his ears pop. He clutched the cushion underneath him hard enough to make his fingers hurt. Feeling as if he was both sitting and standing at the same time, he finally opened his eyes . . . only to find Ray Vecchio standing next to Ray Kowalski, looking back at him with a surprised expression. There was a sharp anger in Vecchio's eyes the likes he hadn't seen since the last time Vecchio had gone against Frankie Zuko over a year ago.

Vecchio turned to face Ray with a glare. "So, one minute I'm preparing for a very important meeting and the next you _Send_ for me with **him** in the room?" Vecchio said all but shouting as he jerked a thumb towards Fraser. "What the hell, Kowalski, have you gone crazy?"

"He saw me," Ray muttered, running his fingers through his blond hair, "Coming back from Home, I mean."

"Ah, Jesus!" Vecchio rolled his hazel eyes. "Are you suicidal or just plain stupid?"

And those were the last words Benton Fraser heard before his world faded to black.

*****

As he came to, Fraser could almost make out a dark figure wildly gesticulating at a second person, looking otherwise dejected and standing off to the side. Quietly grunting as he righted his body, he heard Ray Kowalski's voice first.

"I've already told you: it wasn't fucking intentional, Vecchio! The Veil's been ripped!"

An icy tone that was otherwise familiar (could it really be Ray Vecchio or had Fraser finally gone down the same path as Uncle Tiberius?) shook him out of his stupor.

"Yeah, the Veil's been shredded to oblivion all right! So I ask you again: What.The.Fuck, **Stanley**? I mean, I'm sure someone down the line must have mentioned that you are never to be made out, right?"

"How was I to know he'd be here?" Ray raised and lowered his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug.

"There are **rules** , you know, against this sort of thing! You may have to face the Court, who does not look kindly at having to clean up messes. _I_ might have to come back to Chicago _somehow_ which will fuck up my gig with the FBI . . . ."

"Enough, Vecchio! My cover story was solid. I'd made damn sure that everyone, especially _him_ , was on the up and up about me 'visiting my folks in Arizona'. I called you, didn't I? Just the way I'd been instructed to do back Home."

"Right. Are you going to tell me Red here can somehow Arrive too, because I think someone would have tipped us off about it already, you know?" Ray Vecchio's sarcastic comments belied what Fraser believed was an undercurrent of worry.

"Um."

"What?"

"I maybe gave him a copy of my apartment key—" Ray's almost-mumble disturbed Fraser in its own quiet way. Ray Kowalski had never been the type of person to quietly accept being yelled at.

"Holy shit, Kowalski! You know your home's about the only neutral place to Arrive in! Why would you go around and give Benny a key?"

Fraser rubbed his eyes, half-hoping he'd grasp some meaning from the conversation going on around him, the sooner the better. Wanting to follow Dief's example of slumber, but driven by curiosity, he lifted his head instead. "Ray?" His voice was scratchy. "And, um, Ray?" Fraser's vision sharpened and he could finally confirm that Ray Vecchio was, in fact, here in Ray Kowalski's living room. "Wha—what is going on? Is your assignment over?'

The two Rays looked at each other for a moment. Then, Ray Kowalski lowered his head until his chin was almost touching his chest as a furious blush spread all the way to the blond hairline. His long fingers tapped a soft thump-thump on jeans-covered hips. Meanwhile, Ray Vecchio tugged his cufflinks repeatedly in a display of nervousness he had never shown before. Fraser wondered why neither Ray would look at him in the eye.

In the meantime, Diefenbaker woke up, stretched and hopped towards both Rays, tail swaying to and fro happily.

"Hey, furface." Ray crouched down and scratched underneath Dief's muzzle, his silver bracelet glinting as he wiggled his fingers against the fur. "I see I'm forgiven."

The other Ray patted Dief on the head and kept about a foot away, perhaps afraid errant half-wolf fur would try to cling to his elegant pants. Satisfied with the amount of attention he had gotten, Diefenbaker whuffed quietly, sat on the floor by the turtle's tank and stared at Fraser with a nearly mocking expression on his face.

"God, what I am doing?" Ray Vecchio said as he sat on the coffee table and leaned toward Fraser with a big smile on his face, his tone as cordial as always. "How are ya, Benny?" Dressed in the smartest dark blue suit that Fraser had ever seen him wearing, one _Raimundo_ Vecchio looked almost like himself and then not quite at the same time. "It's so great to see you!"

His arms wrapped around Fraser's shoulders in a warm embrace. Fraser was pleased to see his best friend and returned the hug, but his heart ached when he saw the other Ray Kowalski step back until he was leaning against the living room window. His face wasn't red anymore, but he still looked upset. One hand rubbed the back of his neck while the other lay to the side, balled up into a white-knuckled fist.

Fraser kept looking over his friend's Versace-clad shoulder. "Ray?" His voice somehow squeezed past the worry in his throat. He felt he was being selfish—it had been years since he had seen Ray Vecchio—but even his first partner's sudden return to Chicago couldn't stop him from wishing he could bring a measure of comfort to the man by the wall. "Ray?"

Ray Kowalski shook his head, a non-smile on his face. "Frase." He sounded defeated.

"I don't understand. What just happened?" Fraser was grateful and a tiny bit proud that he managed to keep the panic tightly reined in. He let go of Ray Vecchio first.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Vecchio asked, forcing him to move his gaze over to the man sitting in front of him. Cool olive eyes studied his face despite the calm and friendly tone of voice.

*****

"—and that was when I ascertained Ray was carrying me to the sofa." Fraser concluded the abbreviated report on his day. His left eyebrow began to itch. He had managed to withhold certain details such as how lonely his days had been or the fact that Ray Kowalski had tried to have a rather odd conversation with him prior to Ray Vecchio's unexpected emergence. He felt one of his hands already curling into a fist, thumb sticking out; soon he would swipe it across his brow. Taking sharp control on what both Rays called one of his 'tells', he coughed as a rather oblique substitute.

Vecchio covered his face with his hands and let out a very unhappy sigh. He kept shaking his head in slow motion, the coffee table creaking under his shifting weight.

Meanwhile, over by the wall, Ray's body seemed to hum with nervous energy. His face, Fraser noted, was as impassive as it could probably get. His lips were a flat line of tension and made his anxiety even more pronounced. "We are forbidden from Arriving within close proximity of humans," Ray said cheerlessly. "It. Well, Arriving makes people sick," his ears growing redder with each word, "in all sorts of ways. Stella used to get savage migraines."

"Personally," Vecchio interrupted as he sat up, uncrossing his arms and pulling on his silk tie absentmindedly, "I think it's some kind of whatchamacallit, uh, defense mechanism. You know, like a skunk or a rattlesnake."

If that was supposed to help him understand, it wasn't working. Fraser still had no idea what either Ray was talking about. He addressed the Ray, _his_ Ray he thought with a flash of strange pleasure, who was standing. "Arriving from where? What is it that made me sick?"

"Me. Arriving from Home. Teleporting, I mean," Ray answered with a defeated tone as he rubbed his hands over his face.

The only sound during the next minute was the buzz from the chili pepper lights. Fraser saw Ray shaking his body out before settling back against the wall. Following that display of nervous energy, Ray glanced at Vecchio and did a quick nod of acknowledgement as if he was conceding something. He then looked at the floor, jiggling his bracelet all the while.

"Benny," Vecchio broke the standstill in a near-hush, his suit looking slightly rumpled, "we're **elves**."

"I'm sorry." Fraser pulled his tunic's collar, his brow furrowed. "My bag of marbles must be completely empty. I thought you just said you," he indicated the two men "are both elves."

"That's right." Ray shifted his weight onto his left leg. " _We_ ," he pointed at Vecchio sitting on the coffee table and at himself, "are the freaks."

For one brief moment, Fraser let his mind go around each and every permutation of what he was hearing. Still sitting over by the turtle tank, Diefenbaker was keeping his muzzle shut for the first time ever. "Hmm."

"What?" both Rays said in unison.

Regardless of the possibility of madness, he started trying to debunk their story. "According to general folklore, elves, like most benign magical creatures, tend to be short in height. At least, that's the general consensus. Of course, one has to take into account J.R.R. Tolkien's mythology. Additionally, I understand that some of elves work up in the North Pole—"

"Funny Mountie. I guess then, that all Canadians are hockey fans who live in Igloos?" Ray's raised eyebrows accentuated his smirk, making him look almost like a teenager. "Not everything told and retold over millennia is true, Frase. For the record, the only man in red I've ever hang with is _you_." He brought his hands to his t-shirt-clad lower torso. "However, how about this: two stomachs."

Fraser stared at both Rays; sure, his disbelief was obvious by the look on his face. "Are elves then biologically related to bovines?" His tone was harsher than he had intended but nothing that he was hearing was making much sense.

"If you are expecting me to go moo," Ray said as he squinted, "I swear I'll kick you in the head, Frase." He shook his head and exhaled. "Popping in and out of places whether here, the Other Realm or anywhere in between takes a huge amount of energy—"

"Like in a triathlon," Vecchio interrupted.

"Yeah," Ray jerked, "like Vecchio here was saying. Frase, I don't know how much you know about this telet—telp—teleportation business. Where I come from, if everyone had just one stomach, there would be heaps of fainting-near-comatose elves everywhere."

"It also explains why we're both skinny," Vecchio added. "I tell you, not even Ma's been able to figure out why I don't gain weight after cleaning up two plates of her triple cheese manicotti."

Fraser mulled all that over for a couple of breaths. "X-rays!" he said with a start. "Both of you have gotten examined by a myriad of medical practitioners throughout your lives. It is logically impossible for either or both of you to hide unheard-of anatomical irregularities."

"Pfft." Vecchio shrugged as he began to take off his jacket. "Don't have to hide anything. See, there's this thing called Mirroring that protects us from being discovered—"

"Like an optical allusion," Ray chimed in. "Eh, illusion. An optical illusion. You see it this way it looks like one thing. If you turn it around, it's something else."

Fraser believed that would be a suitable rebuttal. For now. "Well, is there anything else that can _prove_ this absurd situation to be true?"

"Oh, you mean aside from you getting two partners both named Ray who can both pop in from the thin air and have twice the digestive system you have?" Ray Kowalski's tone acquired an edge to it as he pushed himself away from the closed window and began to walk toward the sofa. He stopped a few feet away and quickly shook his head no for a few seconds. "Exhibit B, Fraser," he said with an index finger at each side of his head, "pointy ears. Some parts of the tales are true. Unfortunately."

This was . . . it was . . . unbelievable was too small a word. He knew he had just witnessed the change in Ray's ears, but the need for _tactile_ proof was overwhelming. Fraser jumped up, almost standing at attention, and quickly made his way next to Ray. His right hand rose up, fingers extended and reaching out, as if under its own volition. He quickly curled it into a fist when it was less than a centimeter away from touching the peak of Ray's left ear. Now was not the time to forget one's manners. "May I?"

Ray nodded and he was able to resume a swift physical inspection of the extraordinary pinna. He ran his index finger over the edge of the ear, in a back-to-front motion, stopping at the pointy end for a breath. Ray shuddered as a small sigh escaped his lips. Fraser gave into a sudden impulse and tugged the cartilage upwards.

"Ow!" Ray jerked his head backwards and frowned, fingers caressing the place where Fraser had pinched his ear. "I swear this is not a party trick, Frase. Just, uh, don't pull it so hard next time, ok?"

Fraser reddened. He hadn't meant to be careless in his fascination with bizarre physical characteristics. "I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Satisfied with his assessment of the discovery, he whispered his thanks before heading back to the sofa and taking a seat. He looked at Vecchio, who obligingly turned to show Fraser that he too had pointed ears.

"But no touching, please, Benny," he stated firmly, leaning back. "I'm not into having **you** fondle my ears."

Fraser rubbed his right eyebrow as his mind kept processing the latest revelations. "Both of you are elves who are undercover, um, under your individual covers." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Both Rays nodded.

"And I could venture a guess that the Other Realm, otherwise referred to by you as Home, is a magical place where faeries, unicorns and ogres saunter about?"

"I don't know of any ogres, but there is plenty of crazy shit going on all the time." Ray lifted his right shoulder in a quick shrug, distracting Fraser. The next time Fraser looked at him, both of Ray's ears they were as round as he had remembered them.

"See, it's like this, Benny," Vecchio sighed. His ears were back to 'normal' too. "Kowalski and I come from the Other Realm, which, yeah in case it ain't obvious enough, is a place where magic and other things do exist. Now, no one will be able to tell you why, but there's always been a certain amount of magic seeping in from _there_ to _here_ and vice versa. About a half a million years ago, the Courts, Elvish and otherwise, decided to select members of each species to bring over here to keep things balanced so to speak."

Fraser did a quick calculation after hearing what Ray was telling him and figured that this crossover was happening since before Homo sapiens even existed. "Why?"

"Magic is unstable and most humans aren't equipped to handle it. If the Courts depended on the very few humans who _can_ work it, things would go into the shithole faster than you can say _pollo alla cacciatora_."

"Vecchio," Ray interrupted, "You're just giving him the party line. Truth is elves like Vecchio and me, we hatch, we train, we get an assignment and then, we slip into this world. I was originally sent here to look over Stella."

Fraser felt a small pang of jealousy at the mention of Ray's ex-wife. He wondered if she had learned who Ray really was as he continued to listen.

"Never mind that some aspects of it, like Arriving, which you've already experienced, are dangerous to humans. Animals," he gestured towards Diefenbaker, "and children under the age of 8 are the only ones who are. What's the word? Immune? to any of it."

"How—" Fraser had not meant to interrupt, but this was enough information to start him questioning his sanity again.

"They see the world as it really is not as they are told they should," Ray explained, a peculiar wistfulness in his voice. "For us non-humans, it makes being here less lonely. Because sooner or later, after hiding part of who you are 24/7, it becomes rare to be accepted so easily. Besides, we," he said pointing a finger at Ray Vecchio and then himself, "don't have any control over the, um, side effects. That's part of the reason why it's illegal to use any powers in front of humans."

"If I agree to what you are telling me as being true then, what, I mean, who is your assignment?" Fraser tried to rein in his skepticism. He knew enough about other cultures' mythologies to determine this was unlike anything he had ever heard before.

"Right now? It's **you** ," Ray answered after doing a couple of quick jabs into the air before leaning against the back of the sofa.

"You are both working at the 27th precinct because of me? Are you my chaperones?"

"Face it, Frase," Ray said as he sat down next to him, a denim-covered knee resting against Fraser's, "Freaky shit **always** happens when you're around. For a human, you sure are like the ultimate magnet for the weird and the bizarre. So it happened that tracking your father's killers to Chicago raised the level of weird in your life high enough for the Courts to notice." He looked into Fraser's eyes, a flash of barely-held back emotion in his own. "Vecchio," he indicated to the man sitting on the coffee table, "was sent to keep you out of trouble. No one could foresee the Feds sending him away. The Courts picked me then, to prevent all magical things and you from, um, crossing paths too often."

"Which explains why everyone was so accepting in pretending that Kowalski was a perfect replacement for my fine Italian profile." Vecchio snorted. "Someone back Home must have worked overtime to make that happen. Anyways, we're not chaperones. _Keepers_ , Fraser, the word is _keepers_. This is a new world. New lingo too."

Even Quinn's mentoring could have not prepared him for such a worldview shift. He just couldn't—this was . . . "Too much," Fraser's words coming out in a sigh as he braced his hands on his knees. A subtle pressure on his right shoulder kept him from fully giving into the shock of the situation.

"I know, Frase," Ray said with a downturn curve to his mouth, nearly gray eyes seeming to echo the faint ache Fraser felt inside of him.

"Now that I have a vague understanding of the, ahem, need to deceive," Fraser made a face because he didn't like that word, but there wasn't a more suitable one. "I have to ask why are you telling me now?"

"Benny, we couldn't tell you before. Literally." Vecchio shrugged his shoulders slowly. "The Other Realm mages create a Veil for every operative."

Fraser was hoping he would be able to get solid footing into what was nothing less than a rollercoaster of a conversation. "Ah, yes, I believe I overhead Ray mentioning something about a veil being torn?"

Ray snorted. "Yes and it's Veil with a capital v, Frase. Standard failsafe against, well, telling. Neither Vecchio nor I could have told, written or even Morse-coded about the elf thing to anyone, let alone you."

"Sounds like a geis," Fraser said as he made the connection.

"A whatta?" Ray looked at him like he had been insulted.

"At its most basic, it's a curse that impedes the subject from revealing something."

Both Rays looked at each other and concurred. "Yup, that sounds like it," Vecchio said. "It was ripped or undone as soon as you saw Ray Arriving, uh, teleporting."

Fraser nodded at Vecchio before tugging an ear. "I'm just wondering—"

"Uh, I don't mean to be rude, Benny, but there are some things I—I have to talk about with Kowalski here," Vecchio pointed at the other elf with a thumb. "In private, I mean."

Forehead not-quite-wrinkling with worry, Fraser addressed both individuals at once, "Ray?"

"Vecchio's right. There's some, um, stuff I have to go over with him. Um, kinda like that time when you waved the folder in front of me so that I wouldn't read what was on the computer?" Ray's voice was hesitant. There was a finality to his tone that unsettled him, but Fraser opted not to push it. Vecchio made a slight grimace.

"Why don't you let all this sink in some more before you ask anything else, okay?" Ray suggested.

"All right, Ray and, ah, Ray. I believe it's nearly time to take Diefenbaker for a walk." He signaled 'come' to the relaxed animal. "Let's go." Dief yawned as he slowly stood up, padding over to the front door with as much enthusiasm as a surly teenager. Fraser picked up his hat and walked over to join Dief. "I'll leave you to it then," he said before quietly closing the door behind him.

*****

Fraser had waited until after they had gone down the stairs, out of the building and started toward the park to begin his reprimand. Dief's nails clicked against the concrete, his own boots echoing along, most the city's sounds turned low due to the late hour.

"So, you _knew_? This whole time? Didn't it occur to you to tell me about it?"

Diefenbaker flicked an ear before trotting over to a tree and sniffing it. A whuff aimed at him: _"Everyone who is Ray has sharp ears. I thought you could see them too."_

"Is that why you kept staring at Ray Vecchio when we picked you up from quarantine? Because of the difference in his physicality?" He rubbed his right eyebrow with some frustration.

 _"I smelled Ray's fear. I didn't know it was because of a secret."_ A slight shudder ran across Diefenbaker's spine.

Fraser stepped in front of Dief, nearly blocking he path as he tried to get all the pieces. "And when we came back from vacation and we met the new Ray . . . ." He stopped just as the realization hit him.

 _"Strange ears again. I wanted to lick them, be sure that I wasn't still feeling woozy from the flight."_ Dief marked a nearby tree before padding over to where Fraser was still standing. He sat on his haunches and flashed his teeth in annoyance. _"What is it?"_

Fraser was confused about Dief's exasperation towards him. "It didn't bother you? The fact that neither Ray is, ah, human?"

 _"First Ray was protecting you. Second Ray is Pack."_ At this, Dief hopped over a small fence around a flowery shrub. Fraser considered sitting on a nearby bench but opted to lean against a lamppost and try to make sense of everything.

He remembered how insistent Diefenbaker had been about licking Ray's ears when they came back from vacation. In hindsight, he realized that there was more to Ray being incredibly uncomfortable with Diefenbaker's inspection. Ray Kowalski had thought, rather erroneously apparently, that Dief might say something to _him_.

No matter how hard he tried, he really couldn't put his thoughts in as linear a place as he wanted to. The Rays' deception, while necessary, wasn't any less unpleasant. Especially because the only similar point of reference in regards to trickery he had was tangled up in the mess that had been his relationship with Victoria. Unlike that connection, however, what the Rays' had done was to try to ultimately keep him away from unseen harm. So he was back at the beginning if he pondered on that idea for too long.

Of course, now that he had discovered part of Ray's real background, he felt the idea, the possibility even, of having some kind of a romantic relationship with Ray shrink to a mere whisper. He didn't think that the idea of elves having intimate relationships with humans was especially taboo. After all, Ray had fallen in love with Stella, had even married her. But, would Ray even be interested in having a deeper bond with Fraser?

After all, there hadn't been any evidence that Ray reciprocated his feelings. At least, nothing that could be defined as solid proof. Sadly, logic rarely worked when it came to resolving matters of the heart.

Everything between them had nearly come undone once before. Maybe trying to develop his relationship with Ray into a romantic one, in light of tonight's reveal, might destroy their liaison for real. And that was something Fraser didn't think he could overcome as easily.

Still, Dief's assessment of Ray _being_ Pack told Fraser volumes about the need to look at things from a simpler perspective. What were the consequences of learning the truth? The fierce need for secrecy, the fact that he had gotten not one but two elves assigned to him, Dief relaxed assessment of the situation . . . It was enough to keep his mind spinning for a good while.

Using his inner clock, he determined the Rays must have had enough time to address whatever elf state secrets needed discussion. He called Diefenbaker back to him and headed back to Ray's apartment. He wanted answers. One question was burning in his mind, pushing away any other concerns. **What now?**

*****

Fraser eased his face into an expression of blandness as he arrived at the doorstep of Ray's apartment and opened the door following a brisk knock. Panic would be of no help at this point.

He considered how tired Ray Kowalski looked as he took off his hat and sat on the couch. There was something in the way Ray had half-slouched against the sofa, as if whatever matter he had discussed with Vecchio had been grave.

"What's going to happen now, Ray?" Fraser's eyes jumping back and forth between the two elves, a feeling of near hopelessness pressing down into his chest.

"Not many options here, Benny," Vecchio stated flatly. "Kowalski here can go Home and face our branch of the Courts. Punishment would follow. He could end up, at the very least, with zero powers for a long time. Longer than a human lifetime at least. Time moves differently over there." He pursed his lips. "Or he can stay here, send someone to state his case and eventually become as mortal as you but become unable to ever go Home. Those are the breaks, kids." The expression on Vecchio's face was too faint for Fraser to deduce which option would be the better one.

"Is that the, ahem, Elf Court?" Fraser followed after making a mental leap.

"I've always said you're the brains, Frase." Ray smiled. "Yeah, the discovery of magical acts by humans is against the Code. Unless the act is proven to be completely accidental, which takes a lot of paperwork and money not to say time. I think right now the Courts are still looking over cases from the 1890s. Maybe another elf will get assigned to you. Maybe not."

Fraser's heart twanged upon hearing Ray's usually vibrant tone muddled and dour. He looked into Ray's blue eyes, searching for something to hold onto. So what if both Rays were elves? Did it really matter that _his_ Ray wasn't human?

There was a muted reply in Ray's gaze, dim, but still there and he felt his heart lurch in recognition. Fraser wanted to plead with Ray to stay, but he had an inkling that it wasn't up to him either. Ray would have to make up his mind on his own.

"Kowalski, if you—" The ringing of a phone cut Vecchio's words. He picked up his cellphone and made a face. "It's . . . work," he said to Fraser and Ray.

Ray nodded. "Come on, Fraser, let's go and give this man his space." He got up and started walking towards his bedroom.

"OK, Ray," Fraser said after tugging his collar. His steps felt heavy and his stomach started to flip, but he followed Ray.

"So, Fraser," Ray said after he closed the door behind them and leaned against it, "is there anything else that might be circling around in that noggin' of yours? You ain't fooling me, Benton-buddy. I know that you need to know everything about everything. You are the biggest Nosy Parker this side of Home."

Fraser gave him a quiet smile. "Is it better? Ah, having powers, I mean?"

"It is what it is, Fraser. I can't fly. Also, I'm not, you know," Ray squinted at him, " _indestructible_. When I bleed, my blood might not be red, but I still get hurt. Plus, I can't swim. I mean, _really_ can't. Elves and large bodies of water don't mix at all."

"Oh," Fraser said. He grimaced internally as his mind flashed back, once again, to their time at the Henry Allen. "I didn't know—"

"You couldn't know, Frase." Ray pushed himself off the door and walked up to where Fraser was standing. Placing a hand on Fraser's left shoulder, he sighed. "Listen, working with you has been one of the craziest but most fun assignments I've ever had. I would never—"

A knock interrupted Ray's words. "You two can come back now," Vecchio said from the other side of the door.

Ray made a face before opening the bedroom door. Fraser felt just as forthcoming. They sat down on the sofa.

"Well, Kowalski, made up your mind yet?" Vecchio asked in a clipped tone of voice.

Both Vecchio and Fraser looked at Ray.

Ray scratched the back of his head for a couple of seconds. "Yup." He crossed his arms and looked stubborn. "I ain't going anywhere."

Fraser sensed a tendril of something warm, could almost imagine it being golden, around his heart.

"I might have to come back here and have your powers stripped," Vecchio said in a resigned tone. "I've been told it hurts, like getting kicked in the balls, for a week or two."

"I can deal," Ray shrugged. Fraser was astonished at how quickly Ray had answered. Was it really that easy?

"Are you sure, Ray?" Fraser wanted to keep his mouth shut. He had to know, however, that Ray was not making his decision based on some kind of obligation to the Other Realm. "Why are you so willing to take up exile?"

"For someone who knows a million things, you can be damn thick sometimes, you know?" Ray placed a cautious hand on Fraser's thigh and squeezed. "This and so much more." His face was relaxed yet determined as he waved his other hand in the space between Fraser and himself. "I—I think there's a lot to this, to us, that we haven't really dealt with. Don't you think it's about time to see where we end up? Besides, I'm not being kicked out. This is a choice. _My_ choice."

Fraser smiled his understanding. _Thisthisthis_. Them. He was at a complete loss of words; this was so much more than he could have ever dreamed. The residual heat from Ray's hand on his leg was stirring something long dormant within him.

Picking up on what was going in front of him, Ray Vecchio looked heavenwards. "Well, ok, I'll be your emissary, Kowalski. Keep in mind that I'm doing this for you, Benny," he said pointing at Fraser." Now, let me go Home to scope things out, present your case, blah-blah-blah. Until I come back, let me remind you both that you gotta keep it zipped."

Fraser had the consideration to blush while Ray bit his lip to hide his smirk.

"Oh, please, get you minds out of the gutter. I'm talking about the Other Realm stuff," Vecchio rolled his eyes. He then looked at the two men with what Fraser considered his most intimidating glare. "I mean it. The higher ups ain't going to be too pleased with your decision." He raised a hand as soon as Ray squared his shoulders and gave him a scowl of his own. "But," he continued, "You've chosen to stay over here. There's that whole free will business going around so, things should be square. Besides, I've got a feeling they'll want everything to be wrapped up quietly."

Ray relaxed and intertwined his left hand around Fraser's right one. "Damn right they hafta be o.k. with us." Fraser had a million and one questions but there would be time, they would have enough time, to go over them without fear of repercussions. They were a true duet.

*****

Vecchio stood up, picking up his discarded jacket and gesturing for Fraser to follow him. Before long, Fraser had unlaced his hand from Ray's, risen up and walked to the side of the sofa. He found himself in the middle of an amiable hug that he returned heartily.

"Benny, you sure about this?"

Fraser nodded once in response. "I lo—" He swallowed a gulp.

Ray Vecchio grabbed him by his shoulders and softly pushed their bodies apart. He searched his best friend's eyes. "Mmm, yeah, amore. That's a tough one to beat. Don't know nor care whatever it is you see in _him_." Vecchio dropped his arms and turned around. "Kowalski," his voice cold, " **you** better take good care of him or by the Ancient Ones, I will kick your ass all the way Home and back." He marched towards the couch and extended his right hand.

"Sign it, dot it, stick it in a box marked DONE," Ray said, shaking hands, as he radiated a kind of calm that caught Fraser by surprise.

"Now I really have to get going if I want to make it back in time before anyone figures I'm not where I'm supposed to be." Vecchio fixed the knot in his necktie. "Arrivedercci, Signori."

Fraser began to brace against the inevitable discomfort of Ray Vecchio's teleportation. A faint pressure was already creeping up his legs. He swallowed hard and wondered if he would ever get over the discomfort of being in the vicinity of someone teleporting. A hissing noise was growing louder, buzzing uncomfortable in his ears.

Suddenly, the agitation within him shifted into something similar to the coziness of being wrapped up in a thick, soft wool blanket in the middle of winter. "Hey, Frase. Benton." Ray's breath tickled his right ear as he felt Ray's hands on his neck. He savoured the wave of emotion fluttering inside of him. "Skin-to-skin contact with elves eases the crappy sensations."

"Skin-to-skin, eh?" Humming with tender pleasure, Fraser closed his eyes as Ray pushed him back towards the sofa until the two of them were sitting down. He shivered as Ray began softly gnawing at his earlobe. Fraser's tongue peeked out of the left corner of his mouth. There was happiness and desire and even promises in that kiss. He felt dizzy, alive, **hungry**.

Ray's deft hands got rid of the red tunic and slipped underneath Fraser's Henley. Fraser's skin was hot and soft despite the barely there scars on it. Gently scratching Fraser's sides before grazing the hardened nipples with his callused fingertips, Ray diverted Fraser's attention long enough to lay both of them on the cushions, pressing his denim-covered hips against Fraser's.

For his part, Fraser surprised himself by arching against Ray's solid body in response. He had only felt so wanton once, a whole lifetime away it seemed, but that passion had been tainted by something so sinister as to make him sick. Fraser came back into the present when he realized Ray was nibbling the tendon that ran from his shoulder to his neck.

Cupping Ray's face with his hands, he focused on the pale blue eyes with those golden specks near the iris that he had dreamed of many a night. Fraser smiled, almost giggled even, as Ray closed his eyes and lowered his head until their lips were nearly touching.

Fraser bit his lower lip. "I thought we were told to keep it zipped . . . ."

Ray mock-growled at him before pressing his lips softly against Fraser's, sweetly but not so innocently. "Hey, _I'm_ no angel," he whispered before he licked Fraser's yielding lips and began kissing anew.


End file.
